Hi all, it’s Suraj again — back with something that might just haunt your heart. A romantic thriller, stitched together with real emotions, real people, and one chilling past that still lingers like unfinished work on a construction site.
As many of you know, I’m a civil engineer by profession. My job is a strange, surreal bridge not the kind I draw on blueprints, but one that connects people from all walks of life. One moment I’m discussing deadlines with the company’s Labours / Workers staff, and the next, I’m shaking hands with the founder. No discrimination, no labels just humans and their stories. It’s a privilege, truly.
This particular story began in Bangalore, where I was deployed after successfully wrapping up a project in Gujarat. Bangalore the Silicon Valley of India, buzzing, cultured, and deeply rooted in its own rhythm was alien to me. My colleagues were all locals; the language felt foreign, the customs unfamiliar. In Gujarat or Maharashtra, strangers become friends over a cutting chai. But here, silence was the norm. Respectful, yes but lonely. I felt like a ghost floating between cultures, unseen and unheard.
The project kicked off, and I was introduced to both my core team and the labour force. While my official team was entirely from Karnataka, the workers were mostly from North India Bihar, UP, Jharkhand. Hindi was the thread that stitched us together. With my core team, communication was… stiff. Updates came delayed, fragmented. So I changed my approach. I started spending my lunch breaks with the workers not as a boss, but as a brother. No titles, no egos. Just shared tiffins and stories under the harsh sun.
Among these men, there was one who stood apart - Raju.
Raju was different. Rough on the edges, a rebel who worked on his own terms, often brushing off instructions. But he was the kind of guy every site secretly needed. Reliable. Fearless. Efficient like a machine. He didn't speak much, but when he did, you listened.
One day, as we sat under the temporary tin shed during lunch, the conversation turned nostalgic. The project was nearing completion, and everyone was excited about heading home. “Sir, I’ve already booked my train ticket,” one said. Another chimed in, “Please don’t add more tasks last minute, sir, we’ve made our plans!” I laughed and assured them everything was on track.
But Raju he was silent.
“Raju?” I asked. “Not planning to visit home?”
He gave me a faint smile. “No sir, I’m good.”
One of his co-workers leaned in and said softly, “Sir, Raju hasn’t gone home in three years.”
That hit me like a hammer. “Three years? Why, Raju?”
He shrugged. “My younger brother’s there. I send money regularly. Everything’s taken care of. They understand.”
“But don’t you miss them? Your parents?” I asked.
His expression changed subtle, but heavy. “They miss me, sir. But I make excuses… always say I can’t leave mid-project. They don’t force me anymore.”
His friend added, “There’s a story behind it, sir. A heavy one.”
I looked at Raju. “I want to hear it. Please. Something must have hurt you deeply to stay away from your own family for so long.”
He hesitated. “Sir, it messes with my head. If I remember that stuff, I won’t be able to work the whole day…”
I placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Raju. I want to understand. What happened?”
After a pause that felt like a lifetime, he began.
“It started back when I was a kid… 8th standard. That’s when she came into my life Rashi.”
“She was the new girl in school elegant, soft-spoken, almost unreal. Her presence was magnetic. Everyone noticed her. Including me. But while others had confidence, I only had silence. My family was poor. I wore faded uniforms. How could a boy like me ever approach someone like her?”
“I told my friends. They encouraged me to speak to her. I couldn’t. Two whole years passed like that silently watching her from afar. Until the final day of 10th standard.”
“We were graduating. Everyone knew life was about to change. Some people would vanish from your life forever. That thought gave me courage. I walked up to her, my legs trembling, and I said everything I had kept buried for years.”
‘Hi Rashi. I love you. I’ve loved you since the day you walked into our class. I couldn’t tell you before because… because I didn’t think I deserved someone like you. But today is the last day of school. I don’t want to carry this regret my whole life. So here it is. If you feel the same… would you be my girlfriend?’
“She didn’t interrupt me. Just listened. Then she smiled that goddamn smile and said, ‘I already knew.’”
‘All our friends had told me. Everyone except you. I waited. And now you’ve finally said it. Yes, Raju. I’ll be your girlfriend.’
His voice cracked. He paused. And for the first time, I saw it a storm behind his eyes. A mix of joy and agony.
“We joined the same junior college. Life was beautiful. Rashi was my world. She supported me through everything — even paid for most of our outings, without ever making me feel small. ‘It’s my turn now,’ she’d say, ‘but later you’ll take care of it all.’ She believed in me.”
“Then came the day that shattered everything.”
“I was in a lecture when I got the call. My father… had an accident at the factory. His hand was crushed in the machine. They had to amputate. When I reached the hospital, he was writhing in pain, yet still trying to calm my mother. That moment broke me. My hero… was helpless. The breadwinner of our family… jobless overnight.”
“We had debts. Loan sharks. Threats at the door. I had no choice. I quit college and started working odd jobs. I went completely numb. And in that numbness… I stopped calling Rashi.”
“She called. Texted. Came to find me. I avoided her.”
“Then one day I met her. Told her it was over. Told her to find someone better, richer — someone who could give her the life she deserved.”
“She listened quietly. Then slapped me.”
‘Is that your love, Raju? You think I’m with you because of this, that you’ll give me a good future? I chose you because I saw your soul, I’m not leaving you, idiot. I’ll fight this with you.’”
“After that slap, I felt like I had touched heaven. Like… I was alive again.”
Just then, my phone buzzed with a calendar alert. Lunch was over. A meeting was calling.
“Raju,” I said gently, “We’ll continue this tomorrow. But thank you… for trusting me with this.”
He nodded, eyes distant, haunted as if memories were pulling him back into the abyss.
But I knew there was more to this story.
Something darker.
Something he hadn't yet said.
And that was the real beginning of the horror.
After leaving for the meeting, my mind refused to sit still. Everyone on that Zoom call kept talking — I heard nothing. My head buzzed with just one thing: Raju’s unfinished story.
When the meeting ended, it was already 6:30 pm time for the workers to leave. I packed my bag, left site, reached my PG. But even back in my room, my thoughts were trapped in that half-told tale. The curiosity burned like acid in my chest.
I almost called him ‘Just tell me the rest, Raju!’ but I stopped myself. I didn’t want to reopen his wounds.
Mom called after dinner. She caught my heaviness immediately. “What’s wrong? You sound far away. Everything okay?” I lied, “I’m fine Mumma… just… today I heard a story that broke me. Makes me realise how blessed I still am.” She sighed softly, “Hmm… life hides pain in places we never see.” I agreed. We ended the call. But sleep never came. Only Raju’s words kept echoing in my mind like a ghost.
Morning. I dragged myself to site, restless. Finished my round, asked a co-worker, “Where’s Raju?” “Just reached, sir. He’s fine.” ‘Good. I need the truth today.’
When lunch came, I didn’t wait. I found Raju at the camp, sitting alone, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Raju… feeling better?” He gave me a tired nod, “Yes sir.” “Then tell me. Finish that story. What happened after she came back?”
He looked at the ground, breathed heavy, and then words poured out like floodwater bursting through a cracked dam raw, jagged, unstoppable.
"Sir… after she came back, I thought maybe fate changed for me. But I was a fool. My father’s accident forced me to quit school there were no chance of continuing studies, Job was only option for me, that too labour with minimum wages.
In our village, a girl who finishes high school is a bride in waiting. Her parents started searching for a groom for Rashi. She cried, begged me to come talk to her father. But what could I say? No education. No savings. A small wage feeding three mouths. What father would give me his daughter?
I told her tell him my truth. Maybe he’ll understand. But the truth destroyed us instead. Her father lost his mind. Beat her, threatened to bury me alive if she didn’t leave me. Her brother stormed into my house, threatened my mother — ‘Tell your son to vanish or we’ll kill you all.’
My mother fell at my feet, crying, ‘Raju, please, enough. We are poor. We are low caste. They are Thakurs pride matters more than our lives. If anything happens to you, how will I breathe?’
I knew she was right. But my heart? My heart belonged to Rashi. I still met her once. Her eyes were swollen from crying. I told her, ‘Forgive me… I can’t fight them now.’ But someone saw us. That same day, her brother came with friends four of them. They slapped her, pushed her in a car. She fought like a lioness. She begged them to leave me. They didn’t care. They turned on me fists, kicks, boots. I thought they would kill me there. Only an old elder saved me he yelled at them, ‘Enough! Leave the boy or there will be blood in the street!’
I crawled home, bleeding. My mother gasped when she saw me. She wept so hard she couldn’t breathe. She held my bruised face and whispered, ‘This is why I begged you… please, forget her.’
I tried. God knows, sir, I tried. But how do you kill your own heart? Her phone was taken away. I heard she was getting married. A rich man. Whole village celebrated. I watched them hang posters of her face flowers, lights, songs while inside me, something died.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I begged my mother, ‘Let me leave this village. Let me go far away or I’ll lose my mind.’ She said yes. My friend in Bangalore promised a job. Next morning, I ran. I didn’t even get to see Rashi once before leaving.
Work kept me alive. New city, new job, new dust to hide old wounds. But one night… she came back in my dream. She stood in our yard crying, ‘You left without telling me… you broke me, Raju… now I’m leaving without telling you and never coming back.’
I woke up sweating. Heart pounding. Something was wrong. Then her brother called. I ignored it first. He called again. And again. Fifteen missed calls. Finally, I called back
‘Raju…’ his voice broke ‘Rashi… she’s dying. Come home. Please, come.’
I fell to my knees. Booked the first ticket. Ran to the hospital like a madman. I found her sir… she wasn’t Rashi anymore. She was just bones covered in skin. But when I called her name, her eyes found me. She smiled that same smile I fell for years ago. A tear rolled down her hollow cheek. She gestured I picked her up in my arms. She tried to speak no words came. Her soul spoke through her tears. She hugged me so tight for a second, I thought time stopped. Then… her arms went limp. I screamed for doctors. They came. They checked. They whispered, ‘She’s gone…’
Gone.
Raju wiped a tear with his dusty sleeve. His voice broke as he said, “She waited for me till her last breath. I never fought for her when I should have. I buried her with my own hands, sir. And with her, my heart too. That’s why I never go home. That village is full of her voice, her smile, her ghost… and I am cursed to live with this forever.”
After hearing him, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. Raju’s pain felt bigger than the tallest concrete building I’d ever build.
He stood up, adjusted his torn scarf, and whispered, “If you ever love someone, sir… fight. Fight till your last breath. Or you’ll die every day like me.”
